


The Grieving Process

by Necovi



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Season/Series 01, and I am not kind, jaskier is a sad sad boi my peeps, open ending but not the most happy one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necovi/pseuds/Necovi
Summary: He first realized he was in love with Geralt when he asked him to go to Princess Pavettas betrothal with him. Seeing him sit in that bathtub, saying how he does not want anyone needing him – he just looked so lonely. It made something inside him stir. He wanted to wipe that lonely look from his stubborn face. He wanted to be that someone for him he could rely on. The one that made him realize being needed is not a bad thing. But falling in love with Geralt and needing him was the worst thing that ever happened to Jaskier.***It had been two years since Geralt had left him alone on top of that mountain. Jaskier had been grieving for a long time now and most days he felt fine. But sometimes old pains from the past would catch up to him. This is one of those days.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	The Grieving Process

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic is taking part about 2 years after the Breakup from Ep 6. It's very much the opposite of a fix-it fic, so if you want to see Jaskier happy, you should probably look somewhere else.

The sky looked like it was on fire as the sun sank behind the ocean stretching along the horizon. The air was warm and salty as it brushed through Jaskier's brown locks. He was sitting on a lonely beach in the late evening sun, wrapped in a blanket, softly humming to himself. Basking in the last sun rays, as he sat there watching the waves roll onto shore and listening to seagulls shrieking in the distance. 

His lips curled up into a soft smile when he heard footsteps behind him, coming closer. He didn't need to look back to know who it was. 

“Care to finally join me, my dear Witcher?”, he asked in a soft purr.

He heard shuffling behind him, then footsteps coming closer, before he could feel a warm hand resting on his back.

“I hope you haven't gotten any weird ideas in your head while I was away.”, Geralt said, letting himself drop down next to Jaskier in the warm sand.

“What, me? How dare you imply I have made so much as even one bad decision in my life!”, Jaskier protested in a joking tone.

The Witcher only huffed at that, tugging on Jaskier's blanket to wrap them both up in it, putting his arm around his Bard's waist to pull him closer. Jaskier curled up into Geralt as much as he could, leaning his head on his shoulder. Softly humming against Geralt's skin, both of them just sat there in silence, watching the sky change colors until the dark won over and gave way for thousands of tiny stars. Jaskier doesn't remember the last time he had felt this at Peace. He has never felt as calm as in this moment, cuddled up next to Geralt. His smell, his warmth, his breathing and his slowly beating heart next to him made something inside of him feel whole. This feels right. His place was at the Witcher's side.

“What are you thinking about?” Geralt asked him, running his fingers through Jaskier's hair, who leaned into the touch.

“Hmm...”, he purred, “Just thinking about how happy I am to be at the Coast, I guess. The ocean sure is magnificent. There is no place I'd rather be.”

“Even though there are no people to listen to your songs?” Geralt nudged him gently.

Jaskier just tilted his head so he could look at the Witcher before giving him a soft kiss on the corner of his lips.

“You're here with me, aren't you? As my greatest fan of all time, I think you're all the company I could ever need.”

The corner of Geralt's lips turned up into a soft smile as he leaned down to give his Bard a kiss on the forehead.

“Greatest fan, huh? First time I've heard of that.” He teased Jaskier.

The Bard only responded with a hearty laugh before planting another kiss on the Witcher's lips, this time lingering a little longer. This is what he had wanted from the first time he had laid eyes on the Witcher in Posada. Something inside of Jaskier seemed to pull him towards Geralt that fateful day all these years ago. He had never once regretted going over to him. Sure, if we are being honest he didn't know Geralt was a Witcher when he first saw him. He just saw a ruggedly handsome Man, sitting alone in the corner of the Tavern, the only one who had not showed his distaste in the Bards song. As someone who loves all fine things in life, including fine company, he could not leave this stranger be. He had never dreamed of what this encounter would bring him in the future, or the feelings that made itself at home in his chest without asking. When he looked at Geralt in the beginning of their friendship it was full with intrigue of the unknown. When he looked at Geralt now he was full with affection towards the man he had the pleasure of calling his friend. 

Jaskier fell in love with lots of people, all of the time. His heart was big and full of love that he loved to give out to everyone who would accept it. But his heart never lingered on one person for long. There was always someone new, someone more interesting waiting for him. He had quite the bad habit of constantly looking for new company, which had gotten him in heaps of trouble before. But whatever happened, the love in his heart never seemed to run out. 

Geralt was different than his other conquests. When Jaskier saw him, he certainly was interested. But spending time with him and getting to know him, the Bard's mind always wandered back to the brooding Man, sitting in the corner of the tavern. Maybe it was because he was everything _but_ accepting of the love Jaskier tried to give him but still tolerated him. He put up with Jaskier not because of all the advances he made, or the interest he showed in him, but despite it.

 _I finally figured out what pleases me_ , he thought to himself as he looked into Geralt's golden eyes, brushing a stray hair out of his face.

“What are you thinking about, Geralt?”, He asked.

Geralt stared at him for a second, seemingly lost in thought before answering.

“I've been wondering.”, he spoke slowly, “Why is it, whenever I find myself in a pile of shit, it's _you_ shoveling it?”

Jaskier could feel his stomach drop more and more with every one of the Witcher's words. _What's going on?_ The dissonance between Geralt's words and his expression were eerie. He still looked at Jaskier with loving eyes and a warm smile, still running his fingers through his hair. _What the fuck is going on?_ Jaskier could not wrap his head around what the words Geralt had just ushered meant. They seemed familiar but he could not place them. They tugged at his heart, threatening to rip it apart. Something inside of him screamed and the beach around him started to change. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the birds crying stopped. Everything was silent from one second to the next and when Jaskier looked at Geralt, still smiling at him, he saw that everything around him became fuzzy. 

“What..?”, the Bard started, but could not find the right words.

“If life could give me one blessing”, Geralt smiled warmly at him,” It would be to take you off my hands.”

“What do you..”

***

But before Jaskier could finish his sentence, he was ripped out of his sleep. _What the..._ Staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, Jaskier was trying to figure out what just happened. It took him a while, laying in bed, his heart racing and his clothes uncomfortably wet from sweat, before he put the pieces together. _Another one of those fucking dreams_ , he thought, sighing loudly. He had gotten used to it by now, he liked to believe. But truly, every dream still shook him up for a good while, even if he did not want to admit it. He laid there for a bit longer, desperately trying to push the dream from his memory, but to no avail. When he closed his eyes he could see Geralt softly smiling at him with the Beach behind him. _This is bullshit_. Jaskier hadn't had a dream like this in a while, so he was even more furious than normally. He quickly sat up in bed and got up, tugging on his wet clothes while walking over to the washing area. He knew what would get rid of this stupid dream. Some good beer, songs and women. In the past two years it had been his cure-all for all ails the heart could bring. And it worked. Never for long, but fleeting bliss was better than none.

It had been a bit over two years since the Dragon Incident now, but the wounds Geralt's words left on Jaskier's heart still had not quite healed. Or rather, they would have healed fine, he was sure, if people would just stop asking him about new Tales of the White Wolf. Sometimes he cursed himself for binding his success to Geralt this much. Especially on days like this. Right after Geralt had left, Jaskier had done what he did best after he got his heart broken: He wrote a song about it. At first he was proud of 'Her sweet Kiss' and singing it made him feel a bit better. The people liked it well enough, even if they preferred his more well known songs. But after two weeks or so it still stung and singing about it did not make it better. It was the first time Jaskier had been this hurt being left by someone. Geralt was not like his usual flings, after all.

 _Fuck, stop thinking about it, you idiot!_ , Jaskier cursed under his breath. He hated thinking about it, but Geralt had a way of sneaking back into his thoughts when he was alone. The Bard spent most nights in the company of lovely women, parts to avoid being alone with his thoughts, parts because that was the only thing that gave him joy besides singing. It sounded quite sad when you phrase it like that, but Jaskier was actually quite happy in the arms of all the women he met. He had tried bedding with some other fellows here and there but no matter who he chose, they all reminded him of Geralt in some way. Sleeping with men just made everything worse, while women seemed to be a good distraction with their soft skin and even softer moans. Being held by a man was surely the worst, by far. He once fell into bed with a young farmers boy, big muscles, rough hands and an even rougher manner. Right near towards the end Jaskier's brain must have malfunctioned because he started calling the poor boy “Geralt”.

 _Gods, stop thinking about it! I seriously need a distraction._ Trying to ignore the warm blood that rushed to his cheeks after remembering that night, Jaskier started to head downstairs into the tavern he was staying in. He was sure if he could just find some nice, young woman, he'd be dandy again. 

The Tavern was only half full as Jaskier made his way towards the Bar, only some regulars and farmers here and there. Even though he had slept in, it was only noon after all. The real party would only begin in a few hours, so he resigned to getting something to eat before sitting down in a corner. Starting to drink now would only get him shitfaced before the ladies even entered the old tavern, so that wasn't a good plan. Nevertheless, he seriously considered it, sitting there alone in the corner, quietly eating while stewing in his own thoughts. 

Now, one thing to note in all of this is that even though Jaskier had seen Geralt naked quite often, he had never had the guts to make any real advances towards his friend. He might have fantasized about being held by Geralt but that was as far as it ever went. Sure, he might have found some nice young lads and pretended they were his Witcher sometimes, but the real deal? He wished. Or rather, it's probably for the best he doesn't know what Geralt's rough hands on his body, or his weight on top of him feels like. Or what he sounds like when he's aroused, or what kind of face he makes when he's overcome with lust or the way he would say Jaskier's name when he- 

A loud thud made some of the guests turn to look at the lonely Bard in the corner, as Jaskier stopped his thoughts by bashing his head on the table. _Damn it_ , he thought, _This day is gonna be shit, I know it_. He sighed. 

Now that he thinks back to it, he doesn't remember when these thoughts about the Witcher started. Of course he felt attracted towards Geralt when he first saw him, but after getting to know him a bit, he did not think about him in a romantic way anymore. Clearly Geralt was not going to be one of his flings, no matter how much he flirted with him. So he gave up rather quickly. To begin with, the attraction he felt towards his Witcher was more on a personal level than he ever felt with any of his conquests. He wanted to be his friend. He wanted to be closer to him, he wanted him to rely on Jaskier. The Bard scoffed at himself. _Look where that got me._ He could feel a headache coming in.

He first realized he was in love with Geralt when he asked him to go to Princess Pavettas betrothal with him. Seeing him sit in that bathtub, saying how he does not want anyone needing him – he just looked so lonely, Jaskier thought back then. It made something inside him stir. He wanted to wipe that lonely look from his stubborn face. He wanted to be that someone for him he could rely on. The one that made him realize being needed is not a bad thing. But falling in love with Geralt and needing him was the worst thing that ever happened to Jaskier. If only he had tried to stomp these feelings in the bud, he would not be sitting in a lousy tavern at noon, wallowing in his own sadness. At least not as often as he does now.

He never tried to deny his own feelings, at least not towards himself. To Jaskier love was something to be celebrated, never shunned. But he knew the Witcher would not take too kindly to his feelings. And he was scared of it. He wanted nothing more than to be at Geralt's side and he knew he would push Jaskier away if he got too close. So he kept his distance as best as he could. Maybe becoming his friend first would help, would make him think twice about pushing him away. If only he had never went to Rinde. If only he had not tried to take Geralt's stupid wishes from him. If only he hadn't pushed him into Yennefer's arms.

_It's time for a drink_

As Jaskier finally raised his head from the table, he had been resting it on, he looked around the Tavern. It was already getting more crowded as new townsfolk started pouring in after their long work days had ended. _How long have I been sitting here?_ No matter what the answer to that question was, it was finally time for a drink. He waved the Barkeep over and ordered the biggest glass of the strongest stuff they had. He must have looked like he really needed it, because when the barmaid finally brought his drink, she brought two instead of one.

“The second one's on the house”, she winked at him.

She was a rather plain looking, short woman but she sure made up for it in the energy she exuded. Her hair was a lovely shade of black and her eyes shined when she laughed with the other townsfolk. Not to mention she had a good rack on her too. _Perfect._ Nothing on this delicate lady had any chance of reminding Jaskier of Geralt. He tried to look as lively as possible when he started chatting her up.

“My, what lovely service they have here! I'm sure the drinks would taste even better with some exquisite company such as yourself, don't you think?”, he tried his best to look as inviting as possible as he reached for her hand and lightly cupped it in his own.

The woman just gave a hearty laugh, but seemed to beam at the prospect. After a bit of flirtatious banter she assured him she would come back after her shift was done to keep him company. _Still got it._ The Bard took a deep swig from the glass put in front of him. It tasted like feet, but at least it was strong. That was all Jaskier could hope for right now.

As he sat there waiting for the beautiful barmaid to finally put him out of his misery, he could feel his thoughts slipping again. All the good memories he had of Geralt all came flooding back at once. Every time they laughed together, drank together, slept under the same stars together. He might have never been able to get too close to him but they had spent a lot of time together and he still treasured every smile he ever got out of Geralt. Jaskier let out a deep sigh. It was over. No reason to hang on to old memories of something that was never going to end well. He never imagined it would end the way it did, but deep down Jaskier had always been scared Geralt would push him away at some point. He might have seen the Witcher as a close friend but with the way Geralt was, he was never sure what his standing with him really was. He was incredibly scared that he never saw him as anything else but a nuisance. His deepest fear quickly became a reality as Geralt had pushed him away. He really was nothing more than a nuisance to him, no matter how hard he tried to be his friend.

 _Fuck._ He felt a pang of pain in his heart. This still hurt the most. Even after two years he could not get rid of the pain it left. Jaskier was fully aware that he was seen as only an annoying little Bard by most, if not all, people he met. No one ever took him seriously or as anything but entertainment. He was ok with it, for the most part. He liked the attention and after a while it became easier to pretend their interest could be something akin to affection. If he just told himself often enough, he could even believe they liked him. Geralt never saw him as just something to entertain him. He might not have been very affectionate towards him but at least he never treated him like a toy that could be discarded after he was done playing with him. He really thought Geralt might see him as a friend. But he was wrong. _Ouch._

When the barmaid finally came back to his table he had already finished one of the pints in front of him. As he talked to her, he realized he was starting to slur his words a bit, but the woman did not seem to mind as she sat down next to him. She smelled of liquor and freshly baked bread as Jaskier laid an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. Chatting with her and being able to feel another warm body beside him seemed to soothe his broken heart, even if just a tiny bit. He could finally feel himself relaxing a bit while starting to cozy up to the small woman beside him. The conversation flowed easily and they seemed to be a good pair. Jaskier let out a sigh of relief, knowing he would not have to spend the night alone.

But even though he had captivating company and good ale in front of him, he could not shake all of the thoughts that had plagued him the whole day. Her hair was a beautiful, rich black, but sadly it reminded him of someone he would have rather completely forgotten about. Yennefer von Vengerberg. She was an amazing sorceress, no doubt. She was also a right bitch. And she was the one Geralt loved. Jaskier tried to avoid thinking about Yen even more so than everything else. He might have had a painful unrequited love towards Geralt to begin with, but at least he could still hope before Yen came into his life. He never understood what she gave him that he could not. _That's a lie_. Who was he kidding? He knew full well why he chose Yennefer over him. And it stung like a bitch. Jaskier was just an annoying human. Yen was Geralt's equal in power as well as in age and experience. There's just no way anyone would choose an obnoxious, weak human over someone as gorgeous and powerful as Yennefer. He knew he was just a hindrance between them but he at least hoped he could remain at Geralt's side as his friend. If he could have just stayed close, he would have been able to overlook Geralt's love for Yen. _It's enough now._

“Would you like to keep me some company tonight?”, Jaskier hummed into the girls ear, who did not seem to mind the idea.

Surely enough Jaskier found himself in his room on top of the barmaid, whose name he had already forgotten again, tugging on their clothes. Drowning his own thoughts with the woman's soft moans worked wonders. They kept going until both of them were out of breath and Jaskier was sure he would just pass out from exhaustion if he laid down. Just as he wanted. As he fell into a dreamless slumber with his arm around the soft woman next to him, he felt calm for the first time that day.

Waking up next to a warm body was both a blessing and a curse. It kept him from being alone with his thoughts and he was thankful for that. On the other hand however, it meant he had to try his best not to wake the person next to him as he silently got his belongings together and left. He hasn't been one for parting words in a while and it was easier that way. 

As he made his way out of the tavern and out of the small village he had been in the last few days, he took a deep breath. Most of his days he spent not thinking about his hurt. He was even happy most days, enjoying traveling and performing his new songs for all kinds of new folk. It was what he had always wanted from life. Nothing more, nothing less. The idea of spending the rest of his life with only one person seemed like a good idea for a while. But after everything that happened it was obvious that was just wishful thinking. The scar Geralt had left could have been much deeper and he knew it. Forgetting him was not a possibility because of his work, so he knew it would take a long time to get over him. Jaskier was aware he might never stop loving Geralt but he had to go on either way. He quietly hoped he would never have to cross paths with the Witcher again. He was scared that the healed wound would just be ripped right open again. He was scared he would not be able to keep his love and yearning from overflowing any longer. But for now, he did not have to think about it. The only thing he had to think about was the new songs he was composing and getting enough coin to live semi-comfortably. Nothing more, nothing less. He did not need a Witcher to slay his monsters anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic after reading an article about season 2 and finding out that it's going to take 6 YEARS before Geralt and Jaskier meet again. I guess most people would write a fix-it fic after that, but I'm just a slut for Angst. I thought 6 years is an incredibly long time to leave things unspoken, so I thought it might be interesting to dig up all the reasons Jaskier would be hurt over Geralt to y'know.. make myself suffer a bit. And you now too, I guess.
> 
> I know the end seems very final, but I very much intended it to be an open ending. After all, there are still 4 years left to heal before he meets Geralt again, and I'm very sure he will still love him at that point. Who knows what meeting again could bring?


End file.
